The Grey Area
by Strikit
Summary: Alpha has always preferred to stay in the greyer section of morality, doing whatever feels right at the time. But as Jack of Blades grows more powerful and more threatening, she realizes she has to choose whether to clean up her act or cross into a void she may not be able to escape from. Fable I universe. Rated M for gore, violence, language, and maybe naughty bits.
1. The Storm

Just south of Darkwood, home of the vicious blood-thirsty balverines, is the sleepy little village of Oakvale. There are fifteen buildings, with fourteen of them available to be purchased if the proper conditions are met. At the heart of town are the general store, armorer, and tavern. At the southeast end of the town are three warehouses where goods are kept to be stocked in stores and traded in the nearby Barrow Fields, where traders like to gather. There is a small, modest cemetery on the east side where Oakvale villagers and the occasional passing trader are put to rest. If one were to have a spade and a diminished aversion to grave robbery they might find treasures and gold buried with the dead. The southern end touches the ocean and a single dock awaits incoming ships. Few ever use this port, as most traders choose to travel on foot.

The four houses on the western end, as well as one on the east side are owned by Alpha, the vicious Hero that terrorizes the town from time to time. The rent on these houses is unethically high and the inhabitants have a difficult time keeping up. As a result the economy of Oakvale has never really been able to recover from the bloody, devastating bandit raid that razed it to the ground just over a decade ago. It seems that Oakvale will never be able to become more than a playground for those too strong to be put down by the law and too morally corrupt to be halted by their own misgivings.

The afternoon sun hung brightly in the sky, lending its light to the inhabitants of Oakvale as they went about their daily business. Traders called to passersby, trying to tempt them with their wares. Children played in the streets while their mothers watched them from the doorways or through windows. The men were hard at work tending the fields and stocking the warehouses. There was no hint of danger, no sign that the people of this village had anything to fear.

It had been only about a decade since Oakvale was razed to the ground by bandits, yet the industrious and determined people had already restored it. It may even be said that it was better now than it had been before. Curiously, however, they had not made any attempt to increase security. It seemed as though they should have realized they were left open to enemies and done something about it. No such attempt had been made, but some said they were not necessary. Bandits had already lost interest in the village. Undead did not rise from their cemetery. Hobbes did not besiege them. The only creature they had to fear anymore, logically speaking, was the most dangerous of them all. Perhaps their lack of effort was in fact a wise decision. How does one keep out a Hero who wishes to get in?

Unbeknownst to the peaceful people, a pair of grey eyes watched them from the branches of a large oak tree just outside the town. It was almost surreal to think that at this very moment, there was peace. There was no fear, and no one had a concern more pressing than what would be for dinner. That was about to change very quickly.

How it was that the villagers had not come to expect her coming yet, the rogue Hero couldn't fathom. Every few months she raided Oakvale and each time she wondered if perhaps next time they would have formulated some security measures. More guards or a wall would at least hold her off for a little while, but neither change had ever been made.

Her conclusion was that they liked being robbed blind and as always, she'd come prepared for this. Her sword rested in its sheath on her back, while her bow waited in her quiver for the rare occasion on which she used it. Vials of various colored liquids hung from her belt, tied in place by leather strings. Her leather shirt would protect her from minor wounds and, in a worst case scenario, her Guild Seal was sewn into it in case she needed to make a quick escape. Her favorite part of all of this, however, was her cloak. Made from the pelt of a balverine, it had been carefully constructed so that it retained the look of the beast it had once clothed. The long, thin arms covered her own when she was at rest. The legs had been removed as they were far too long and would drag the ground, but that was hardly noticeable. The head had been hollowed out so that she could wear it as a hood. The eye holes of the balverine served as her eye holes as well, allowing her to see with the hood up. This cloak camouflaged her in the darkest of environments and allowed her to blend seamlessly into the shadows. From a distance, balverines would judge her as one of their own and generally pay her little mind. And the people she wished to terrorize would at first misjudge her for a creature that they ought to fear far less.

Gracefully she dropped down several branches, intentionally causing the one she landed on to shake. A small girl playing near the base of the tree looked up, her tiny eyes squinted as she attempted to figure out what had been the cause of the disturbance. Only a few seconds later the girl screamed and ran for the village center. "Balverines! In the trees, balverines!"

The child ran into town as fast as her chubby legs would carry her, repeating her high-pitched squeal of alarm. The villagers halted their business and prepared for the beast. Mothers pulled their children indoors and barred the door. Men picked up pitchforks, clubs, and various arms from the weapons shop. Very rarely did a balverine travel so far south as Oakvale, but it wasn't unheard of. But for one to venture forth in broad daylight was another matter entirely. That should have caused the men to proceed with caution, but they were foolish and they obviously hadn't learned from their past mistakes.

It took the villagers longer than she would have liked to amass their meager army. She tapped an unnaturally long finger nail against the branch on which she perched. Had she a mind to and no sense of honor or sportsmanship she could have massacred the entire population by now. From her vantage point she could watch as they gathered at the heart of the city with their found weapons, ranging anywhere from a stick or a pot to a broadsword. It was a laughable attempt, but at least they were providing her with entertainment.

The men gathered at the base of the tree and looked up, trying to discern the dark fur of a balverine from the shadows of the leaves. She remained completely still and silent with her eyes trained on them. Her delayed attack was not from fear. On the contrary she was testing them to see how long it would take for one of them to find her. Were she a true balverine, no doubt she would have revealed her presence already. Besides, standing so close to the very oak the beast was supposed to be hiding in was a devastatingly stupid move. But these people were devastatingly stupid in general.

The first to spot her was a balding pot-bellied man in the center of the mob. "There's the beast!" he roared, rushing to point her out to the others. She locked eyes with him and tossed her head, flipping her hood back to give him a wolfish grin. Instantly the man turned pale and turned to run, nearly tripping over himself in his haste.

"Alpha!" he yelled hoarsely as he fled in much the same fashion as the girl had. That was all the warning they needed. Panic broke out as they scattered like the frightened sheep they were. She had been pillaging Oakvale for nearly ten years and even the youngest children knew to fear her, as they should. She wouldn't hesitate to strike them down any more than she would their fathers or mothers.

Alpha jumped from the tree and landed on the balls of her feet easily. Then with all the dispassion of a practiced killer she raised a hand and sent a burning ball of flame toward the man bringing up the rear of the fleeing herd. It hit him in the back, enflaming him until he was nothing more than a pile of ash. A sadistic smile curved her lips, displaying her overlong pointed teeth as she strode forward confidently, sending jolts of lightning, more fireballs, and the occasional flock of spectral bats toward the villagers. It was fun striking them down, sure, but she had business to attend to. So she changed direction for the heart of town and when she reached the door of the general store she drew her sword. The mid-length blade glowed red and white, then shimmered silver alternately. The magically altered sword cut through the door of the general store like butter and allowed her to pass through easily. She then returned the sword to its sheath on her back. The shopkeeper's family sat huddled behind the counter in fear. Alpha sneered at them and turned her back, instead focusing on sweeping all of the merchandise into her bag. It was a good haul this time. There was plenty of food as always, along with cider crates, diamonds and rubies, and a keg of beer. Once there was nothing else left on the shelves and her bag was bulging at the seams she fled the building.

By now the guards had realized she was there and the alarm had been activated. Swarms of blue-uniformed men charged at her, brandishing swords and crossbows. Alpha let out a beastly roar and charged at the guards. When she was close enough she leapt at the nearest one and sank her magically altered teeth into his neck. He fell to the ground, clutching his gaping open wound and gurgling pathetically. A few of the guards did the wise thing and ran, abandoning their ranks in favor of preserving their lives. But many foolish men remained. Alpha cast a shimmering silver barrier around herself and drew her sword once more. The blade whistled through the air as she cut into the stomach of the guard in front of her. He fell to his knees with a grunt, leaving her to slash and jab at the others. She was far faster than they were as a result of endless training and they didn't stand a chance. One after another they fell. Before moving on Alpha knelt and began looting the bodies, taking money, petty items, and each and every one of their daggers. She was all about the trophies, and she had the dagger of every guard she'd ever killed. They hung on the wall of her home in Knothole Glade, the only town in all of Albion that revered her as a true Hero.

Alpha then ran headlong for the west side of town. She burst into the first house she found, but she spared the inhabitants, being that they were her renters.

"Pay up," she demanded, holding out her hand. The woman keened softly and the man stammered, "M-my wages are late, but if you'll only give us three more days..."

That's as far as he got. Alpha raised her hand and hit him with a burst of energy. He screamed, apparently expecting imminent death. What he got was blinding pain as runes in the language of the Old Kingdom were carved into his chest. He wouldn't understand them, but they would translate to mean her ownership over him. They may be just letters but they would bind him to her, making him her slave.

"Get the money, I don't care how," she ordered. He nodded jerkily. "Yes. Of course. Thank you, merciful Alpha."

She snorted scornfully. "Don't make me change my mind."

She left the house then and went to the other three clustered near it. They all were hers, and the process was repeated at each one. The inhabitants of these homes had the rent, as was wise, so she moved on. At the last house, however, she paused, noticing the head of a white balverine mounted on the wall. Those creatures were few and far between, and she'd been tracking one near Knothole Glade before it just disappeared. This house had belonged to another Hero before herself, one by the name of Druid, and she couldn't help but wonder if this was her balverine. As she neared the trophy she saw the scar over its muzzle that she'd dealt it in their one and only encounter, and she sneered. It was certainly hers. Decisively she plucked the trophy from the wall and shoved it into her bag as well. There was no way some second rate Hero was getting the prize for her hard work. No matter how he'd managed to kill it, the fact was she'd cut off one of its paws, making it an easier target. It had been her kill. The trophy was hers.

Satisfied, Alpha left the house and went back to the heart of the town, directly in front of the tavern. There she waited for more guards to come for her. It didn't take long before red-uniformed guards swarmed her from all directions, planning to overwhelm her. Alpha squared her feet and began muttering incantations. A burning circle of runes and symbols surrounded her and the guards and then they were carried into the air from the force of this Infernal Wrath. She held it for as long as she could. When she released it charred bodies fell to the ground, not a sign of life from any of them. Before she was attacked again she plucked a vial from her belt and drank the blue liquid within quickly. Life returned to her, and she was once more ready for whatever these foolish villagers thought to send her way.

Though she would have loved to stay all day and dispose of guard after guard, the fact was she had other business to attend to. So at a leisurely pace she meandered toward the northern part of the city. Each time a wave of men would set upon her, she would halt and face the oncoming challenge with gusto. Some fell to a well-placed slash from her sword. Others lost their lives at the hands of arrows, while still others were set upon by whatever manifestation of Will Alpha cared to unleash upon them. Time increased between each wave until she was able to walk right out of the village without a scratch, sneering at the carnage behind her.

**A/N:** This is written from the view of my favorite OC Hero, Alpha. All events take place roughly ten years after the beginning of the first game. Canons may be expected in the very near future. Reviews are greatly appreciated. Don't hesitate to tell me what you'd like to see in this or characters you want to make a cameo. If at all possible, I'll honor these requests. Thanks for reading!


	2. The Calm

On an island just west of the main continent there are two mountain ranges. These great peaks stretch from north to south on both the east and west sides. At the southeast edge of the island is Knothole Glade, nestled at the base of the mountains. They don't protect the town; on the contrary, they serve as hiding places for the dark beasts that lurk in the woods. As a result wooden gates have been erected around the town to protect its people. There are ten houses, a tavern, general store, clothing store, blacksmith, and tattooist. It is here that Alpha calls home, in a house in the southernmost part of the town.

Only when the oaks completely surrounded the path did Alpha stop and raise a hand to the Guild Seal that rested over her left breast. A pulse of energy arched from her palm to the strange artifact and in the next breath she found herself standing before the tall fences that secured Knothole Glade. The great wood gates were open. That was good; it meant that the city was at peace, and she could relax. She strode into the town just as cockily as she had Oakvale, her hood down, mouth and hands splattered with blood. This time, however, instead of screams and pleas of mercy the people offered her cheers. Men, women, and children alike beamed at her as she passed through the gates into the town square. Not once was she questioned about the source of the blood. Be it man or beast, they were certain that it had been spilt for the good of mankind. She spared the larger than life statue of Scarlet Robe in the square a derisive sneer before returning the greetings. What kind of Hero defended a town for a while, then completely disappeared? Not one who deserved a statue. Each time she saw the monument to the fabled balverine hunter Alpha resolved to serve Knothole Glade even better than she so that someday they would tear down Scarlet Robe's statue and replace it with hers. Or at least build one of her next to it, as long as it was taller.

Alpha's first stop was the tavern. The merciless slaughter of villagers had left her parched and ravenous. On the way a group of children scurried up to her, each waving a scrap of paper and quill ready-dipped. Her eyes softened considerably as she knelt down.

"What's your name, lad?" she questioned as the most bold of the children stepped forward. Her voice was raspy but still light and soft, far different than her cruel appearance suggested. The boy grinned at her and answered "My name is Bram. Can I have your autograph?"

Alpha smiled in answer and accepted the paper to scratch her signature onto it in sharp, thin letters. Smudges of blood were left behind wherever her fingers touched, but instead of being repulsed Bram was ecstatic. He took his quill and paper back, eyes shining with glee and admiration. The next child quickly stepped up, and Alpha signed her paper as well. By the time the last of the group had stepped up, however, the ink on her quill had dried.

The girl looked to be near tears as she realized this, but Alpha didn't hesitate for a second before pricking her index finger on one of her sharpened teeth, dipping the quill in the bead of blood that followed and signing with that.

The children ran off after they'd all received their autographs, presumably to show their friends. Alpha watched them go with a faint smile. How cool must it be to get proof that they'd met their favorite Hero? As they disappeared into one of the houses Alpha moved on. The hearty warmth of the tavern beckoned to her. Laughter and idle chatter bubbled from the mouth of the triangular building. It stood on three walls with the entrance being entirely open to the elements, but the mild weather prevented that from being a problem most of the time. Candles sat upon the two long rectangular tables that stretched from one end of the tavern to the other. These provided light for the patrons, while a fire pit set into the floor near the rear of the building provided heat during the chilly nights and winters.

As she grew close Alpha's eyes flitted to the seat at the end of the table closest to the fire pit. Even when the tavern was full the inhabitants of the town knew to avoid that spot, leaving it for her. Sometimes newcomers or travelers unfamiliar with the local customs would sit there and as long as Alpha did not come to the tavern for the duration of this transgression no harm would befall the fool. On this day, one such man occupied her favorite place. The chatter died down from a roar to a hum as the patrons realized the explosion that was likely to ensue. With unsettling grace and calm Alpha stalked toward the man, her eyes trained on him the entire time. Only when she was a mere yard away did she halt and stare down her nose at this inconvenience.

"You're in my seat, mate," she warned in a level tone. The man looked up at her slowly and scoffed at her primarily unthreatening stature. Though she was obviously a Hero as revealed by her visible Seal, he must have missed that little detail. That, or he was too drunk to care anymore.

"I don't see your name on it." He reached around her to smack her ass boldly. The resounding 'whack' of his palm against her leather-clad skin seemed to echo through the tavern, leaving silence in its wake. The sheer audacity of the action was the only thing keeping her from running him through with her sword. Instead her lips contorted into a smile that would be charming and perhaps even attractive, if it weren't for the fact that it showed her pointed teeth. "You're a brave man," she purred, raising a clawed index finger to trace his jaw sensually. His eyes widened hopefully at the promise in her words. The residents, however, seemed to know that there was more to it than was immediately apparent. And it was no secret that Alpha wasn't particularly fond of men.

In a quick motion she grasped the man's neck and lifted him off the ground a foot, the claw that had just been caressing him so gently digging into his skin. Her voice came out as a primal growl. "Leave Knothole Glade, and never return, else I'll see just how brave you are with your throat laid open."

She threw him down harshly as hard as she could. The impact was enough to crack his ribs and perhaps his arm. He lay there dazed for a few beats before he scrambled to his feet and sprinted out of the tavern, tripping over himself in his haste.

Raucous laughter followed the man out as Alpha unfastened her cloak, quiver, and sheath as though nothing had happened and draped them over the back of her chair. Without her balverine pelt and weaponry she looked far less dangerous, but after her display of temper no one would underestimate her abilities. Half a pint of beer and a few bites of bread were left behind from the man she'd ejected from her place. These she consumed quickly, then began tapping her nails against the table impatiently as she waited for a barmaid. This was obviously a common occurrence, as tiny imperfections in the table's surface that looked suspiciously like claw marks matched exactly the new indentations her claws were making. It wasn't long before a barmaid came to her with a generously filled pint of mead and a hunk of meat on a skewer.

"Here you are, Alpha," the young woman said breathlessly. Whether it was from fear or excitement was not apparent, but for the moment Alpha did not care. She accepted both food and drink and pressed a few gold coins into the maid's hand before lifting the mug to her lips. It seemed that the motif of the beast in her appearance and mannerisms was extended to her appetite as well, for only after eight skewers of meat had been devoured did she raise a hand, signaling the barmaid that she was finished. Even after that she continued to accept pints of mead as she relaxed in her chair and listened in on the conversation of various patrons. For the most part there was nothing interesting. Most of it was about personal relationships, the local economy, and the recent rise in the populations of balverines and bandits alike. There was one bit, however, that captured her attention. It was spoken by two men at the same table as she, and clearly they did not want to be eavesdropped upon as they kept their voices low. But, Alpha reasoned, if they'd wanted privacy so badly they would have gone somewhere more private.

"…heard he's been different lately," one man muttered to his companion. "He's just not right. I even heard he's been kidnappin' people he 'spects to be Heroes."

That was certainly of interest to Alpha. She pursed her lips thoughtfully and strained her ears to catch who they were talking about. Who would dare abduct Heroes? More importantly, was she in any danger?

The companion shook his head solemnly. "That's just how it is now, mate. Can't even trust Heroes. There's just as many bad ones as good. And the ones that are good aren't always so good. Why'd Scarlet Robe go missing, eh? She got sick of coverin' up for us is why. How long 'til they all do the same?"

"'S true. An' Jack's been around for longer than my gramma can remember. Never caused any trouble 'til here lately."

"They all go bad in the end. Drunk on power's what it is. Who stops a Hero?"

Alpha tuned out then with a grim frown. Hearing their distrust of Heroes irritated her, but she brushed that aside for now. They'd been talking about a Jack, and the only Hero she knew of with that title was the legendary Jack of Blades. Normally she did not place much interest in folklore and tales of Heroes, so her knowledge of Jack was certainly limited. But if he was targeting other Heroes she may just have to become interested.


	3. Contemplation

After the exertion of pillaging and several pints of mead Alpha found herself leaning back in her chair comfortably, her eyes only half open. Her bed beckoned to her, and even with her current state of drunkenness she was fairly certain she could make it home without vomiting or falling over. But after the snippet of conversation she had caught she couldn't bring herself to walk so willingly into a compromising situation. She may be a Hero, but if the legendary Jack of Blades really did have a sudden affinity for abduction it would be unwise for anyone to be so careless as to find themselves inebriated and unaccompanied after dark.

This train of thought led her to question once more why Jack would care to spend his time capturing Heroes. He was an important man and a well-liked savior of the people, or so his image was portrayed. Certainly Alpha had always found him a bit disconcerting. The fact that he always wore his scarlet cloak, the color of blood, and his mask, hiding all but his bone-chilling eyes, seemed a bit off to her. Then again she wore the skin of a balverine, so perhaps she hadn't the right to throw stones. There was no denying that he was frightening in his own right, but so was she.

But Alpha cared not what other Heroes did, as long as they respected her space and her property, and did not interfere with her actions. In fact, most that she knew of followed the same philosophy. There were a few friendly rivalries—and a few less than friendly ones—but for the most part Heroes left one another alone. Once they left the Guild and went out into the world what they did was their own business.

Could the corruption that ran rampant among Heroes because of that fact be the very reason Jack was attempting to remove them from society? It was true that high volumes of blood were spilt, perhaps not always for the best reasons. Even if that were his logic, he must realize that few were either all bad or all good. Alpha may not reek of benevolence, but she had her place in society. As much as she may enjoy enforcing harsh renter's agreements, drinking excessively, and massacring guards in an admittedly uncivilized manner, her true calling was hunting balverines, and she was damn good at it. The forests of Albion grew safer all the time because of her efforts. Whether it was for the good of the people or for her personal amusement Alpha never explicitly stated, but considering her obvious love for the people of Knothole Glade surely there was some kindness in her actions.

Most Heroes inhabited a morally grey area just the same as she did. They wrought some havoc, then saved some lives. Would it really be worth giving up the good they did?

Perhaps it did not matter to him. Perhaps Jack was not attempting to make Albion a better place for its citizens. He could very well be hoping to gain something personal from this. What, Alpha hadn't the faintest clue. She supposed only those close to him would know, and from what she'd heard not many men could say they rubbed shoulders with Jack of Blades. Did he have any friends, she wondered? Did he have any family? She may not place much stock in human companionship, but to think of one living so long as he without a glimmer of affection in his life made her shiver. Was it maybe loneliness that had caused him to go mad? Was he just trying to find a way to occupy his time?

Of course, the possibility remained that it was only a rumor. The people of Albion were not known for their accuracy in repeating news. It seemed that a new evil sprang up every few months, and the end had been nigh for as long as she could remember. Maybe the people had just grown bored, and were trying to stir up some excitement for themselves by creating stories. Bar talk generally held as much credibility as a fool's rantings. So why did she feel so uneasy?

When the shouting of the fist fighters' gang could be heard outside Alpha rose from her seat slowly, steadying herself with a hand on the back of her chair. With cautious motions she replaced her sheath and quiver on her back, then clasped her cloak over them. She could do this, she reminded herself. It was just walking. With a ridiculous amount of concentration she placed one foot forward, then shuffled the other behind it. This careful drunken strut was not as impressive as her usual prowl, but for now it would have to do.

As she'd predicted she made it onto the street okay. There was no one around, but she could still hear the dull thump of fists hitting flesh nearby and the shouts of those who watched the fights. If she ran into trouble she could at least call for them so that they could bear witness to her attacker. Her shuffling gait carried her the short distance from the tavern to the building she called home occasionally. It was, as was everything else, made of wood. Much like the tavern, it had a peaked roof and looked like an oversized tent. The door was not level with the ground. Alpha dragged herself up the short ladder that led to the front door, which was only a thick wool tapestry. It served to keep the beasts and the elements out, so it was good enough for her. A small platform stuck out there to give her a foothold and to prevent falls, not that she ever did fall. She ducked under the tapestry and straightened up in the main room of her house. It was unimpressive and served mostly as a trophy room. Thin windows afforded the room moonlight, which was for now enough to light it. The floors were, of course, wood, with another thick wool tapestry thrown over it. It was not meant to be a rug, as evidenced by the intricate designs on it, but what did she care? It gave her something to wipe her boots on and muffled her footsteps. Sometimes the hollow 'thunk' of her feet against the wood grated on her nerves. Then again, not much failed to grate on her nerves.

With a faint smirk she reached into her bag, which she had never put down of course, and extracted the head of the white balverine. An empty place on the wall waited for him. She mounted the head on a hook protruding from the wall, not particularly caring that it ripped the skin. The pelt itself was obviously not in the house where she'd found the head, but she would have to find out where it was. Skorm damn the stupid Hero who'd taken her kill, if he'd not kept the pelt. She'd kill him extra slowly when she found him if he'd let it go to waste.

The daggers of the guards whose lives she'd claimed were next. Alpha turned to the opposite wall and began rearranging them on the wall as lovingly as she could with her drunken hands. Although she'd never counted the exact number of weapons, it was obvious that her collection was large. It spanned almost from floor to ceiling. Soon she'd have to expand it to another wall. Instead of morose contemplation at the sheer number of lives she'd taken, she felt triumphant glee at her prowess.

Now, it was time for bed. There was another ladder in her trophy room, but this one led down through a hole in the floor to her bedroom. She descended it clumsily, dropping down the last few steps. This room was as black as night, as there were no windows. Call it paranoia, but she didn't like the thought of there being a way for her enemies to crawl into her room while she slept. A wave of her hand caused the wicks on candles throughout the room to ignite. Her bag was still weighed down from the spoils of the general store, but she would sell the goods tomorrow. Only now did she shrug off the strap and set it down. Usually she would have been so careless as to throw it, but there was food and drinks in it, and she didn't want the inside to be doused in beer or potions. Her cloak was unclasped once more from around her neck and hung on the wall. Her sword hung next to it, and her quiver next to her sword. She may not care much for most things, but her items of combat she would preserve and guard with her life.

Her favorite part came next. At a pace that came only from undressing and redressing quickly and often, Alpha shed her clothing. It lie on the floor in a pile as she climbed into the surprisingly soft bed against the far wall, dressed in only what she'd been born with. Her skin smelt of sweat and blood and there was a thin coating of dirt over her, but a bath could wait. For now, sleep was more important than anything else in the world. It overcame her almost instantly.


	4. The Thief

Between Greatwood and Barrow Fields is a marshy forest known as Darkwood. The name is fitting; the sky here is perpetually grey and most of the trees are dead. What little vegetation survives here is brushy and unhealthy, besides the booming population of fungi. There are few truly safe places here, but those that do exist are often most welcome to travelers. The Darkwood Camp is a small cluster of traders who stay in the forest, selling to those who come through the area. Often those who attempt to get through Darkwood stop there for the night. The other safe haven is the Darkwood Bordello, though it may not be considered safe for the ladies who are employed there.

The chapel of Skorm rests here as well. The thriving temple of evil awaits those who can lure unsuspecting human sacrifices into its walls. Rewards are given to those who contribute regularly and please Skorm.

Balverines call this forest home and are more plentiful here than anywhere else in Albion. Trolls, hobbes, nymphs, and the occasional bandit may also be found here. The combination of these antagonists make Darkwood an unpleasant place to be.

Despite the turmoil that had plagued her mind just before sleep, Alpha found her rest to be peaceful and dreamless. She awoke to complete darkness. The candles had all burned themselves out, as she'd forgotten to snuff them out before bed. It was impossible to tell exactly how long she'd slept for due to the lack of windows, but it wasn't as though she had any pressing or time sensitive matters to attend to.

With a yawn that made her jaw crack she sat up slowly, allowing the furs that served as blankets to fall to her waist. The cold air nipped at her bare skin and she suppressed a shiver. Dressing would be her top priority.

Scratch that, she thought as she caught a whiff of her own scent. Normally she didn't mind smelling a bit gamey, but the combination of sweat, dried blood, dirt, and the sour lingering scent of alcohol was too much even for her. Slowly, wary of any remaining effects of intoxication, she rose to her feet. The chill drove all remnants of weariness away and she hastened to grab her balverine cloak. It was just as filthy as she was, so it wasn't like she had to worry about getting it dirty. Though she knew her home well enough to navigate it blindly she wasn't sure where her clothing had dropped when she'd undressed. She raised a hand, palm up, and concentrated hard. A sphere of flame ignited and rested in her hand, radiating heat and light. The illumination was enough for her to see the crumpled pile of leather on the floor and step around it. She plucked the cloak from where it hung on the wall and clasped it around her shoulders. Though it provided adequate warmth she still needed the light, so she left the flame burning in her hand. With care she climbed the ladder up to the main floor using one hand. There was enough brightness here that she could extinguish her flame. From the light filtering in through the windows she supposed it must be a few hours past noon. The town would be bustling with life, but even if the villagers deduced that she was nude beneath her cloak no one would threaten her in the way a woman might normally fear. If they did, they would never threaten anyone again after she was through with them.

She ducked under the tapestry that served as the door and jumped down to the ground below. Out of respect for her people she ensured that her cloak covered all but her calves and feet, then started north. As usual she was greeted warmly, though a few of the villagers blushed as they saw her bare legs and realized the fur was the only thing shielding her body from view. Those who noticed averted their eyes politely in most cases, though Alpha didn't care whether they looked or not. There were those who were brave enough to catch her eye and smile suggestively. The attractive young women received a smile in return, though she did not act on it for now. If she tried, no doubt the romance would end quickly when they caught the awful smell on her skin.

Mud and vegetation clung to her already filthy feet as she headed for a thin stream hidden in the forest just outside the barrier. Again the gates were open, and she passed through them without fear. It had been weeks since the last balverine attack. Whether they were truly gone here or just waiting to attack again was unclear, but for now all seemed peaceful. When the trees thickened on either side of the path Alpha began looking for the marker. When she found the tree bared of bark she slipped into the trees. A small clearing obscured from the main path indicated that she was headed in the right direction. Just past that was what she'd been looking for. A stream just wide enough for a woman her size was nestled between the trees. Alpha unclasped her cloak and hung it on a nearby branch, then slowly lowered herself into the water. It was cold, but not so cold that she couldn't manage it. Quickly she scrubbed at her body with just her hands. The thin sheen of filth slowly began to come off. When she deemed herself clean she relaxed against the edge.

She pondered her prospects for the day as she did. The stolen produce would have to be sold today, as it would spoil soon. Some of it she would keep but as it was she was currently in possession of more apples than she'd ever care to eat. Knothole Glade was the best place for her to sell because the shopkeepers liked her and would give her better deals. But as she thought about it, she decided she didn't care to spend her entire day quietly bargain hunting. No, she wanted another adrenaline rush. The better part of the day had already passed her by, and nightfall was well on its way. Even after dark here there hadn't been a balverine sighting in weeks, but she could think of another balvie-infested area that didn't have that problem.

After dunking her head one last time to make sure her hair was well rinsed she climbed out onto a nearby rock. A quick muttered word made the water on her skin evaporate. The result was that in a matter of seconds she was completely dry to the touch.

Her cloak was her next concern. It would not be an overstatement to say she cared more about the cleanliness of her favorite article of clothing than of herself. Whereas her own bath had been rushed, she took her time as she wet her hands and gently ran them through the dirty fur. Quiet, cautious incantations eased the removal of dirt and blood. Meticulously she worked from the snout to the tail until it was immaculate. Alpha dried it as she had herself, then pulled it back on. A few more muttered words saw her feet encased in a thin shield of energy. It would have been useless in a fight, perhaps only effective against the weakest of beetles. But it was perfect for keeping her recently washed feet clean during the walk back to her home. Perhaps it would have been slightly more practical if she had just brought her change of clothes and her boots, but that wouldn't have afforded her the opportunity to traipse nearly nude through the streets, her Heroic abilities visible to all due to the faint blue glow around her feet.

The walk back into town was identical to the walk out. She went home first so that she could dress and get her bag. The leathers she'd worn the previous day were hung up to prevent damage to them. Using her long nails, she pried the Guild Seal from the dirty shirt and as she donned a clean one pressed it into the same spot on this one. The mechanism was identical to the other, and the Seal clicked into place.

Clean leather pants and her boots completed her ensemble. She belted on her sword and quiver and clasped her cloak around her shoulders. As an afterthought, she grabbed a soft strip of leather and tied up her milk chocolate hair. It rarely caused her any problems, being only shoulder length, but when she would be encountering foes slightly more deadly than a frightened villager she preferred to eliminate the potential distraction.

With her bulging bag slung over her shoulder she was ready. Once more she went to the town square. Slightly more sociable now that she was no longer emanating an offensive odor, she smiled at every pretty girl she passed and greeted all who greeted her. As with all trips to the market, however, she wanted to finish as quickly as possible. She went from stall to stall, selling her wares and bargaining for better prices all the time. By the time she was finished she'd come into possession of more potions and lessened her burden of produce. It was a welcome change.

Now, she was free to do as she wished. Alpha touched her Seal and used it to send her to the Cullis Gate in Barrow Fields. As she materialized the traders screamed and ran or hid from her, but it wasn't them she was interested in this time. She strutted past them without so much as a glance. A tunnel cut through rocky hills separated the idyllic field from the vicious marsh on the other side. Through this tunnel she went. The interior was dark, too dark for her eyes to adjust. But it was short, and a few paces carried her through to the other side.

The sky here was darker. The trees in Barrow Fields had been tall and thick and green with life, but these were not so beautiful. Mostly dead, their dry and barren branches clawed their way upward through sheer force of will. Short, tough grass grew on either side of the path but for the most part the only landmarks were rocks and hills. Alpha moved as silently as she could, much slower now. Although she wasn't exactly frightened she was aware of the danger and did not want to provoke an attack she would be unprepared for. All it would take was for her to be surprised by a balverine once, and her life could end. And balverines were not the only creatures in these woods. If she listened hard she could distantly hear the grunting chatter of hobbes. Those monsters were less dangerous than her usual query, but she still did not care to deal with them. Her aversion was partially due to the fact that they smelled even worse than balverines.

Despite her caution, Alpha had expected to see a balverine almost immediately. She almost always did when she was in Darkwood as the place was crawling with them. But there were none to be found. She couldn't even smell the mixture of wet dog and carnage that betrayed their presence. Only the scent of decay and stagnant water hung in the air, the usual aroma of Darkwood. Beginning to get uneasy, she stopped and listened. The noise of the hobbes had faded with distance and now she was met only with silence.

Perhaps she should have left then, taking her discomfort as a cue that the pleasure of killing was not worth risking her own life. But if she had it would have been a major blow to her pride, and she was not about to let her ego be bruised like that. So she crept onward in hopes that she might find answers to her quickly forming questions. She was already halfway to Greatwood before the sign she'd been looking for came. A scream pierced the silence, followed by a howl. The sounds came from just around the hill. Alpha skittered toward the noise and peered around the rocky hillside to see the hulking shapes of six balverines closing in on a boy. Their bodies hid him from her view for the most part, but she could see that he was unarmed. Though her kindness was normally reserved for the inhabitants of Knothole Glade she couldn't just stand by and watch this boy be torn to shreds. Quickly she nocked an arrow and sent it flying into the back of a balverine's head. It crumpled to the ground and moved no more. The other five turned around in search of the assailant. She stepped out into their full view and drew her sword. Her eyes locked on theirs one by one in clear challenge. The largest of the five was the first to react. It roared its fury and leapt toward her, meaning to knock her down and end this. She danced out of the way and in penance for her grisly find severed its arm. It howled in pain and landed on its side as its balance was thrown off. Quickly she ran her sword through its eye. The other four had reached her by this point and one swiped a huge clawed paw at her head. She dodged it and loosed a fireball at it. It jumped away, leaving the other three to close in on her. With a roar she swung her sword in a circle to force them back, then called forth her Summon. The ethereal balverine snarled and lunged at the others. This distracted them long enough for her to throw her bow and quiver to the boy.

"Try to shoot them!" she yelled, not looking back at him. "And for the love of Skorm don't hit me! Take a breath and aim, exhale and shoot."

The boy fumbled with the bow and nocked an arrow clumsily. He had no experience with weapons. But obviously his rescuer would not have asked for his help if she did not need it. So he did as she bid while the creatures were occupied with her and breathed in, aiming for the one that was closest to Alpha. As he exhaled he let the arrow go. It whizzed by the balverine, catching only its ear and tearing the cartilage. It turned toward him and screeched its fury, bounding toward him on long legs. He had only seconds before it would be tearing out his entrails. In his panic he nocked another arrow and let it loose. This one buried itself perfectly between its eyes. The beast fell just three feet away from him. The other three paid him no mind. That was just as well; he reeled from the shock of his perfect kill and it took him a second to realize he should probably shoot again.

Alpha saw none of this. Although she was a practiced fighter and she was well versed in the fighting style of balverines, the three that remained were tough. Her Summon faded out of existence as it finally took too much damage to continue. In an attempt to avoid injury she'd thrown up a Physical Shield, but she was still taking more punishment than usual. Sweat beaded her brow and blood once more dotted her skin. Another balverine fell at the end of her sword, but the two left were as vicious as ever. They closed in on her and bared their fangs, preparing to make a devastating end blow.

Before they could the boy shot one after the other in quick succession. One arrow hit in the eye of one, and the other went through the other's mouth. Both fell. Alpha turned incredulously.

"Are you an archer, boy?"

He hurried to retrieve all of the arrows he could, wiping them on the fur of the balverines before returning them to the quiver. "No, ma'am. That was the first time I've ever shot an arrow."

Alpha snorted rudely. "A likely story. Come on, boy. What's your story?"

Although he was loathe to get on her bad side, considering the fact that he'd just witnessed her combat prowess, he thought lying would be worse. "That's it, really. I'm just from Oakvale. Nothing special."

She narrowed her eyes at him and crossed her arms. "Yeah? What do you do for a living?"

He chewed his lip nervously before answering. "Well… To be frank, I steal."

That was adorable. Alpha barked a laugh and replaced her quiver on her back as he handed it to her. "You're probably the youngest thief I've ever seen. What, are you the son of a bandit or something?"

She'd struck a nerve. His face heated up and he refused to look at her. "No. My parents were murdered when I was small. I went to live with my uncle in Bowerstone but I didn't much care for that. So I stay in the trader camp here in Darkwood and ambush traders and travelers on the road."

"Yeah?" Alpha looked him up and down judgmentally. She didn't seem guilty at all for the fact that she'd brought up the fact of his dead parents. "Why is it you've never ambushed me before? I come through here all the time. I'd think I look worth stealing from."

"I'm not dense," he said with a hint of sass. "You're armed to the teeth, not to mention the teeth themselves. All I've got is a dagger. I tell people I've been infected by a balverine and if they don't give me their stuff I'll bite them."

Alpha laughed again. "Clever boy. I like you. How old are you?"

"Fourteen."

"Yeah?" She looked him up and down again thoughtfully. He was a handsome lad, that was for sure. His eyes were almost too blue, his hair too dark and faintly curled, his features too delicate yet strong. Not surprisingly, he was shorter than she was, though he looked as though he'd get over that easily in the coming years. From his build she could tell that he wasn't used to hard labor. His arms weren't particularly muscular, his skin was not particularly tanned, and his palms looked as though they'd be obnoxiously soft to the touch. But the boy had promise. If he was telling the truth, he'd just shot and killed several balverines, supposedly without any experience shooting before. That sort of natural skill didn't happen every day. If he was being honest, and she would quickly find out if he was not, the boy was a Hero.

"What's your name, boy?"

"Nathaniel, ma'am."

Alpha again snorted derisively. "No more off that 'ma'am' nonsense. It's Alpha."

Nathaniel flushed and nodded. "Okay. Alpha. Thank you for saving me from the balverines, but I have to get back to the camp now."

"No you don't," she said calmly. "You're coming back to Knothole Glade with me. I'd like to keep you around for a little while."

"Why?" He eyed her suspiciously. Apparently living on his own had made him wary of strangers, which was good. But Alpha hadn't the patience for it.

"I think you'll be useful to me," she said with a shrug. "And let's face it. You don't have much to leave behind. Let's go, kid."

She grasped his arm. Nathaniel would have protested, but he had a good sense of self preservation. If a well-armed Hero wanted him to come with them, he wasn't exactly going to say no. Alpha touched her Guild Seal and the two were enveloped by a faint blue glow as they were transported across Albion.


End file.
